


Everlasting

by DanielWalker



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Christian Character, Christianity, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanielWalker/pseuds/DanielWalker
Summary: A Foreign Woman must achieve her mission, save her people, at the expense of hurting the one she loves.
Relationships: Emmaline/Alister





	Everlasting

The shadow wagged against the wall next to the glimmering fireplace. Burning wood, cackling with crisp embers wafted the antique mauve brick room. First one book, and then another, lined the walls in stack after stack. A key, small and curious, hung attached to brown twine looped on a golden hook next to the elaborately carved golden olive door.  
In a spout of flame, the kettle whistled. Requisite preparations for unsaid company soon to arrive. The noise jolted Reeve Bartholomew to the soles of his brown leather boots from the chair, which his great grandfather crafted many moons ago from the old oak tree that was legendary near the lake which laid beside his cabin, and over to the fire place. With a large salmon burnt and frayed mitt, Reeve removed the pot and poured the boiling water into two pink peony printed silver rimmed teacups on matching saucer dishes filled with Tulsi Sweet Rose Tea and wildflower honey laid nicely on the tiny table near the chair.  
Through the window Reeve checked the dirt road amidst his property. When up came Duchess Emmeline very splendid on her shell gray mare named Muffin.  
One step, thump. Two step, thump. Three step, thump. And a dainty knock, knock, knock on the golden olive door.  
Reeve tumbled for the key, slipped it into the slot on the door, turned the curved handle right, and opened the door slowly. He blushed upon the site of the fire of his loins.  
Emmaline invited herself in without a word. Her warm ivory skin glowed like a diamond in the florescent light which glimmered from the arch window. She lifted her white gown, and sat down in her usual chair, across from Reeve. Her raven hair accentuated her heart shape face which caused her large round aquamarine eyes to pierce straight at Reeve as he stumbled to his seat. She sipped the tea. The smooth floral taste dancing on her tongue as the hot liquid slithered down her slender throat.  
“Emmaline.” He refused to make eye contact, sitting with his hands clutching his knees and eyes on the tea cup.  
“Bartholomew.” She tossed her flowing curls back behind her exposed shoulder and took another sip.  
“I love you Emmaline.” Reeve blurted it out quicker than he could think.  
“Love? What really is love?” Emmaline stood, and bent down gently to place the teacup down. She turned toward the door, admiring the carved wooden man who had his spear through the head of a dragon. “Do you see your door? The one my father carved?”  
Reeve whipped his head to the right and noticed a picture which became so common place to him that he never really noticed the exquisite beauty and detail until right now. “Yes.”  
“That is Love. That is what I must do. And I just can’t do that if I marry you.” She twirled looking around the cozy cottage, with all of the fairy tale books, and a foreign comfort to the cold blue stones she often spent her time writing letters in front of, or the cold dirt roads where her people starved to death in the droves. “You have a very comfortable life. It is neither here nor there. But I admire Paul when he wrote ‘For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.’ He found joy even in imprisonment. What is to love, when it hurts so many other people? While, really, that is not love, it is self-delusion. If you fail to understand this, then you don’t love me, because you don’t love the one who crafted me and sent me on mission. Repent, or be no better than the Heathen.” She opened the door, and turned back to Reeve. “I was hoping to stay longer, at least finish my tea, but,” She gandered outside to Muffin, “that would be in bad taste. I’ll see you in three days hence.”  
Before Reeve could refute Emmaline’s decision, the heavy door swung shut with a loud thud.


End file.
